


Blame

by TowardTheStars



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M, Reflection, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:00:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23249623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TowardTheStars/pseuds/TowardTheStars
Summary: L blames himself.And the rain and the fights and the night and Light Yagami.
Relationships: L/Yagami Light
Comments: 17
Kudos: 79





	Blame

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [【L月/授翻】Blame怪罪](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23460169) by [TINOJM17](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TINOJM17/pseuds/TINOJM17)



L blamed himself in a way.

The world’s greatest detective, and he couldn’t even concede to the unspoken and unrelenting decree that a detective should never ever, regardless of circumstance, fall in love with the chief suspect. Especially when the chief suspect happened to be tied to one of the most vicious and widespread murder sprees of the twentieth century.

L also blamed Light.

Light was magnificent in ways L could never had expected. It frightened him sometimes to look over at Light and into those radiant, splendid eyes and see that wild, dazzling intelligence that sparkled in his iris, or the beauty and grace that accompanied every deft moment, or the way that even the vapid light would bend and curve around Light, illuminating every marvelous countenance with an shining luminosity.

Light shone with beauty, and L cursed himself for falling on such a useless factor (physical appearance makes no difference with justice)

And L fell hard.

He fell so hard he was dizzy and shaking, and when that horrible realization finally struck him, when he realized that he had committed that horrible crime, god forbid to care for your enemy, to even _love,_ all of his breath had left him in a terrible gasping wheeze, and his hands trembled and shook, and his eyes had clenched tightly shut as if to block out the horrible understanding that had crashed him and left him choking and sputtering and oh god, why must it be Light, why must it be _Kira_ …

L blamed his intelligence.

If only he wasn’t so perceptive, he may have remained blissfully ignorant for a little while longer. He wouldn’t have to deal with all these unfamiliar, alien feelings that clogged his system and made it difficult to concentrate. But he _was_ perceptive, and he was intelligent, and even he couldn’t remain in denial as the days went by and the cursed feelings only grew instead of disappearing under the weight of L’s stubbornness to accept what he felt.

He did recognize some emotions, and he was fortunate for that small basis of understanding. But to his dismay, he wasn’t experiencing negative emotions like _hatred disgust revulsion loathing hostility._ Instead, he felt _happiness desire delight pleasure want…love_

He despised himself for allowing so many emotions to flood him in sweeping waves. His intelligence should have barred any emotion from corrupting his mind, but despite all his logic, all his carefully thought out reasoning, he still couldn’t dispel the sensations, and only found himself falling more and more into that drowning whirlpool of feelings.

L blamed Kira.

If it wasn’t for him and his relentless need to punish evildoers, this battle between two brilliant minds wouldn’t have occurred, and L would have had no need to involve and expose himself. L had never encountered an adversary so adept or so cunning. If Kira had been of the typical criminal stock, then L could have easily caught and persecuted him, ending the nightmare before it began.

Kira was also such a good _liar._

L knew liars; he himself was one. He understood how they thought and manipulated, how they twisted their fantasy into believable reality. He also knew how to dismantle a liar’s fabrications; how to pick them apart with cold unrelenting reason and hardened expertise, exposing deceptions and tearing down falsehoods.

Despite all of L’s attempts to reveal the truth, Kira managed unscathed. He danced through every attempt, spinning more lies into an increasingly complex web that slowly entangled L as he desperately sought for alternatives to prove Kira’s guilt and stop the murders.

L also blamed Kira for corrupting Light.

He knew Light took direct responsibility for the murders as he must have been the one to write the criminal’s names delicately into that horrendous black book he had discovered only a week ago.

But for some reason, the Light L had chained to himself during several months didn’t _feel_ like Kira. His eyes didn’t possess the hollow look that accompanied death or even worse, the vicious glean of control over something so fundamentally human. L only saw untapped potential and an endless intelligence in those eyes. Even when they fought and Light hissed out L’s alias in irritation, there was never any true scathing hatred – not like the loathing he beheld when, on the rare occasion, glanced into a murders eyes and saw the spiraling insanity and overwhelming cruelty. Light’s eyes were his own, and while they could hold anger, they also held amusement and laughter and happiness that L would sometimes cause with wiry remarks or sarcastic replies.

Except they weren’t Light eyes, now they were Kira’s and had been since Light had placed one hesitant hand on the Death Note and let forth a terrifying, ghastly scream that had shattered through the shell of the helicopter and broken into the night in reverberations of pain and remembrance and cruel victory, and even now, the scream echoed in L’s ears; it was all he could hear, and he wished for anything to replace it, for in that scream, his defeat and pure loss reverberated.

L had lost Light Yagami that night, and that had hurt him in staggering amounts he could have never dreamed possible.

Now, he only wished for a return. He wished for a Light unscarred by Kira. He wished to investigate side by side. He even wished for the handcuffs back to bind them together, despite the blatant invasion of privacy.

But the handcuffs and L’s keen watch had proven useless in the end, as Kira had returned and Light was lost in whatever nightmarish world Kira created.

L blamed himself for that.

L blamed the Death Note.

It was a particular object: small and unassuming but capable of so much death and destruction. It radiated misery, but also produced a dangerous allure: a small whisper that slithered into his mind and crooned softly _use me, and everything will be so simple so easy so nice all it takes is a name one name and you control death you could deliver justice as due isn’t that wonderful isn’t that what you desire?_

L struggled to refuse its siren call, and he could understand why Light had succumbed so easily. A bored, genius teenager with nothing to do, and suddenly a magical book appeared that enabled him to change the world, to challenge himself, to quench his boredom.

He hated the book. He hated what it had done and what it could do. He hated its hold on Light, and Light’s submissiveness towards it. He hated himself for letting Light gain hold of it, but it was in a moment of shock and weakness, and he hadn’t realized until too late.

L wished Light hadn’t discovered the Death Note. It meant condemning Light to years of drowning boredom, but eventually, if Light had continued to follow his in his father’s footsteps and solved cases with even a fraction of his intelligence, L would have noticed, and maybe, just maybe, he would have allowed Light to be his companion. Then, maybe, just maybe, something more could have happened and Light wouldn’t be just his companion, but a partner, an equal and then maybe, just maybe, a lover to spend with for the rest of his days. It was all speculation, of course. There was no guarantee they would have crossed paths, but the taunting possibility existed and continued to torment L.

L blamed the fights.

The cold metals links of handcuffs that intricately coiled together creating an inseparable bond between Light and he had forced them to spend three months in each other’s constant company. It had been awkward at first. How exactly does one respond to being connected to another person by five feet of chain? Their habits clashed, and Light would often complain about L’s insomnia and unhealthy diet and uncommon quirks. L would silence him with a pillow or a slice of cake and sometimes even a punch.

During those three months, they fought constantly. Punches and kicks were exchanged as often as ideas and theories. They would often end the day with their body aching and bruises coloring their skin. It was unhealthy to have such a violent relationship, and L understood he was supposed to be an adult and above such childish squabbles, but that didn’t stop L from throwing the next punch. It was refreshing to feel fist against flesh as opposed to the constant mind games that rarely produced any physical stimulation.

Light would punch back just as hard, and so their fights continued.

During the fights, L would sometimes look at Light closely, observing his messy hair and flashing eyes and sweating face, and feel an emotion he couldn’t classify despite his intelligence.

Only now, did he understand he was experiencing love.

However, now it was too late, for their fights had ended and the chain had been broken. Now they once again battled with their minds, and L missed the physical interaction. He feared he was not ready for Kira’s contest as he still craved the bodily fights that added to their relationship. He wished to feel Light against his fist, and even more he wished to feel Light with soft, caressing hands and trembling lips. He didn’t want to leave bruises to discolor Light’s skin; instead he only wanted to trace the quivering body that housed the most brilliant, beautiful mind L had ever encountered.

But Kira detested contact and flinched whenever L attempted to initiate contact, and L was once again left with open, empty hands and a pressing urge to _think faster think harder think better._

He was afraid he couldn’t, and sometimes, late at night when the rest of the world was fast asleep, he would clench his hands together into trembling fists and dig his nails deep in his skin in an attempt to feel again. For a while, mental fights rewarded with satisfaction and entertainment, but L couldn’t feel anything except cold satisfaction and certainly not the hot blood rush and tense exhilaration of landing perfectly placed punches.

It saddened him to miss the violence, but he supposed that was an essential part of their relationship. Light would never submit to L, even if it meant throwing punches, and L loved him all the more for that.

Now, there were no more punches to throw, no more bruises to attend to, no more skirmishes over irrelevant issues, only the encompassing game of life and death that Kira loved and L dreaded.

So, he blamed the fights.

L blamed the nights.

Nights existed as shadow worlds as the darkness set in and the stars cast their sparkling light over the sleeping world. L loved the shadows. They smoothed the blemishes, blurred the lines, and revealed secrets in soft, crooning whispers that had otherwise been hidden in the harsh light of the day. They existed as a safe retreat when the blinding light and restless people started to overwhelm.

L had never expected the Light to follow him into the nights, but the slumbering boy beside him proved different.

He had expected Light to be a problem: a ceaseless irritation to disrupt his late night meditations. However, the sound of steady breathing and quiet sounds of small shifts surprised L in their comforting manner, and he discovered they helped him think and softened the cutting shadows that sometimes plagued his nights. Occasionally, L would pause in his work, and let the calming sounds overwhelm him, soothing his mind and easing the loneliness that often persisted when the nights grew especially dark.

The sounds would even lure L to sleep, and he would find his eyelids slowly sliding close, enclosing him in true darkness. That darkness frightened him for that was when his demons would begin to flutter in front of his eyes; the cold leering smiles of doubt, and insanity that lingered in burning crimson eyes, innumerable bodies decorating broken, blood stained altars, flashing knives and guns that plunged slowly into gasping flesh, bodies hanging from swinging the nooses, the innocent he wrongly-accused, and the guilty he let walk free. Worst of all, he would see himself in the corner of the darkness, but it was a twisted version of himself, one bent by the cruelties of the world and too many deaths he could have prevented and filled with rage and pain and hatred at his hopeless quest. In the darkness, he could feel that version of L threatening to take over with cold mechanical claws.

L hated to sleep, but mostly because he was terrified of what could happen when his last defense crumbled and his demons began to play wicked games in his nightmares.

However, Light’s breathing steadied him. When he felt his lungs constrict and his hands shake, Light’s breathing remained constant and would lead him gently to a peaceful state of mind and sometimes even sleep.

L wasn’t the only one with the unrelenting demons, for Light would often wake up breathless and shaking. His nightmares disrupted the darkness, and it would take a while before his breathing once again steadied and he would allow himself to fall back to sleep. Light wouldn’t talk to L when he woke up from the nightmares; instead, he turned to the side of the bed, grabbing angrily at the sheets. Light hated showing weakness, preferring to either ignore the problem or shut it up inside of himself; L could understand, for he was the same.

Sometimes Light would wake with a scream breaking through his lips, disoriented and frightened. It had startled L the first time, and he was unsure of what to do. Light was obviously in pain, and to L’s surprise, that caused L a unique form of pain that twisted in his stomach. After a moment of hesitation and Light gasping horribly, L reached over with a hesitant hand and placed it on Light’s trembling shoulder with care. Light froze at the contact, but began to relax, appearing comforted by the solid warmth. They remained like that until Light’s breath evened, and he fell back asleep. It pained L to remove his hand, for the feeling of Light under his hand created a peace that spread through him and warmed the darkness.

The next time the night shattered with another of Light’s worsening nightmares, L placed his hand back onto Light’s shoulder, but this time Light took his own hand and covered L’s with it, rubbing small circles into the skin. It started like that, two hands linked in the darkness and acting as a comfort against the nightmares and demons, but slowly their actions became more daring. When L woke with a cry on the rare occurrences he dreamt, Light turned and loosely pulled L into his arms. L froze in surprise, and Light quickly retracted his arms. However, L pulled him back, drawing him close as he dared and taking one hand to stroke Light’s soft hair. L may have originally intended the action as one of thanks, but Light took it as an invitation, placing a messy kiss on the side of L’s lips. The move was bold, and when L didn’t respond, Light turned away in embarrassment. L turned him back, and with careful, slow movements he placed his own kiss on Light’s soft lips. Over the next few nights, they gently kissed each other, and with trembling hands explored each other’s bodies, feeling each curve that composed the person they were pressed against.

They never talked about it in the morning, and it never become more than a few slow kisses and soft explorations of skin. It remained for the nights, and the time of shadows when light and darkness met in slow winding spirals.

L had never experienced a worst night than the first one without Light beside him. His demons were especially loud and mocking, joined by a red Light with maniacal gleams in his eyes. The silence was so oppressive, and the night so dark and lonely, L had drifted away from the memory stained bed and wandered, hoping to find something to distract him from his loss. He only found the shimagami with its skeletal form, and he let out a humorless laugh that his only companionship was a god of death.

He had never missed Light more than at that moment. 

L blamed the handcuffs.

L had always lived his live in relative solitude, separated from the heaving masses of humanity. He had maintained this solitude by pixelated screens and mechanical voices, creating a mysterious, unapproachable shroud that hid him for as long as he could remember.

He had been safe there, disguised in anonymity, and Watari had dealt with any situation L deemed uncomfortable or unnecessary.

While lonely, L sheltered himself from the dredges of humanity and protected himself from unwanted emotions or thoughts that threatened to corrupt his mind.

He never felt the need to strengthen his social abilities or converse with different people that could never compete with his intelligence. No one had warranted any interest that would force him out of his shelter into the wild, untamed world.

Then Light had come along, peaking an interest that had yet to be satiated.

L had maintained his distance originally, observing through grainy video feed, but the need to get closer and know more had increased. L blamed his suspicion of Kira that forced him to delve deeper into Light’s mind.

Approaching Light at the university was a risk, but whether for the case or other reasons, L took it anyway. He found himself engaging in more social contact in the span of a few weeks than the last three years, and the disgust at conversing with others dissipated with every spar of word between him and Light.

Playing tennis, having lunch, simply walking through campus and talking had offered an enjoyment and challenge L had never encountered before. He reveled in the action of sharing ideas with someone who could fully appreciate them, and while the suspicion of Kira remained ever present, the urgency would fade slightly as he simply talked with Light.

Light’s brilliance intrigued him, and inviting him onto the Task Force had enabled further conversations and interactions. Light’s analysis and deduction’s displayed exceptional potential that L desperately wished to explore further.

However, Kira continued to kill, and L continued to search for ways to cease the killings, and so he locked Light away.

L observed as Light adapted to the solitary confinement, watching intently as Light’s whole persona altered in a split second. That moment, unnoticeable to all others, marked something significant that L struggled to deduce.

Once the killings returned, L recognized his loss and admitted defeat. Something had changed within Light that had somehow allowed Kira to transverse to another. Whether Kira remained present within Light or had left completely was a matter of debate and not something L could figure out through distant monitoring.

The handcuffs had come through a dream.

Practical, essential, incredibly personal, L had decided to proceed with the idea. Watari had created a special handcuff which offered more length, and Light had been removed from one confinement to another.

The handcuffs were short enough for them to have to share a bed, and they danced through showers as they attempted to accommodate the handcuffs. The nuances of daily life irritated them, and L, who had never ventured beyond a day spent with someone, was forced to learn how to engage, placate, and talk to Light, all while constantly watching for Kira.

It had been fascinating, and L realized the danger much too late.

The enormous contact, the incredibly personal nature, the endless conversations had sparked an interest that delved into an obsession. L found he did not want Kira to play his hand so that they could continue in their exploration of each other.

The handcuffs compromised L’s shelter, devastating the careful walls of solitude he had so meticulously placed. There was no longer any retreat behind nameless screens, and Watari could not ease any situation L found uncomfortable. L had to deal with Light solely on his own, and slowly his initial obsession and disgust at others subsided into a contentment of companionship.

The glimmering mornings spent together, the vibrant afternoons, the silent nights compromised the days as they stood next each other, the links between them unbreakable and their bond expanding and deepening through every smile and argument.

The moments where Kira faded into a nonentity, where it was just him and Light, those were some of the happiest times L had every experienced in his relatively short life.

The handcuffs brought them, held them, and entwined them together, and when they slowly clattered to the ground as Watari unlocked them, it sent rolling waves of separation and solitude across L.

The solitude that had always protected now offered confinement, and L despised the desperate feelings of loneliness that crawled through his bones. The solitude turned on him viciously as he attempted to return to his previous anonymity. However, Light had become so incorporated in L’s life that the failure to hear Light breath steadily beside him felt like a large part of L had been forcefully removed, and all the happiness accompanied with Light had deserted him.

L only now understood how _lonely_ solitude could be, and the dreadful admittance that he wanted Light back shamed him.

The handcuffs had gotten L used to a world where the Light was always present, where L only had to turn his head to confront an equal, where loneliness did not exist.

But that world had ended, destroyed with a silver key, and L’s only companionship now was the flickering lights of his laptop and the ghoulish shadows that resided in every room he entered.

L craved Light’s presence, and he wondered if he would ever stop missing him.

He desperately hoped so, for then the solitude would once again offer comfort, and L would be able to displace Light from his mind and return to the familiar world of shadows and mystery.

L blamed the bells.

The bells had started as distant echoes in steady repetition. However, the more L stood on the roof, the louder they seemed to ring, eventually becoming loud, clamoring through the city. The sound of the bells filled his mind, and all thoughts of Kira and Light faded behind a singular question: did the bells signal a wedding or a funeral?

He hoped a wedding was the cause of celebration. He himself had never attended a wedding, but his imagination drew one up for him anyway. A hopeful, beaming young bride dressed in sparkling white drifting up the altar, her father’s hand fixed encouragingly on her arm. At the end of her journey, a smiling, tidy man stood with his chin high and his eyes full of quivering emotions. It was a joyous day for two souls had decided to join their lives in matrimony, placing trust and love in one another to keep until death.

For a moment, L allowed his mind to cruelly entertain him, and he placed Light and himself in the bride and grooms shoes. Light would look radiant, of course, and L would disparage his usual attire for a simple suit he was sure Light would appreciate. He imagined Light walking gracefully up to him, a genuine smile adorning his face and his eyes reflecting love. He imagined the vows leaving his mouth, promising trust and respect, and Light doing the same. The thought filled him with a comforting warmth that was quickly quenched by the frigid waters of reality. The notion itself was ridiculous. There would never be enough trust between them to bind themselves so tightly, let alone enough love to warrant a wedding. It would remain fantasy: a dream that would only cause pain.

It saddened L, though, that he had never attended a wedding.

Funerals, on the other hand, L frequently attended. Whether in person or computer, L had seen an endless parade of corpses and the mourning attendees. For most of the deaths, he held a part of the responsibility.

Now, the bells took on a far more threatening, mournful tone as funeral after funeral played through his mind. Just like the wedding, L could see him and Light. Light, dressed all in black with his face stern and composed, looking down upon L’s corpse who lay on a sheet of black decorated with blood red roses. L looked peaceful in death, his face smooth from stress. Light’s expression when he looked at L was unreadable. L hoped some form of regret and sorrow burdened Light, instead of succumbing to Kira’s wild glee and gloat. However, the only emotion L could read off Light, was not one of happiness or pain, but instead an overwhelming loneliness that caused Light to bend his shoulders forward as if pushed down by the weight of the rotten world and only now realizing how hard it was to carry alone.

L didn’t want the bells to signal a funeral, but he knew with a settling certainty that no wedding was occurring on today of all days. With that knowledge, the bells increased in fervor, filling L’s head with their relentless chimes. L could feel his death approach with the bells, and he knew with frightening certainty that he would not live much longer. Kira would kill L today, and he wished his successors all the luck in the world in taking down the only monster as terrible as him.

The knowledge of his death didn’t fill him with anger to his surprise. Instead, a feeling of sadness that faded into calm filled his veins, and he tilted his head up to gaze at the sky.

He had lived a good life, he decided. It had been lonely, yes and hard, and he had created suffering and caused death. But he had also saved good people and stopped horrible ones, and created a name that would live on longer than him. He was a beacon of hope to people who wanted justice and people who deserved it. He had tried his hardest, solved ever case he had encountered – except this one – and set an example he hoped would be followed. Kira would eventually burn out, but L would remain and that was the final victory.

His only wish was for someone to mourn him as the man instead of the detective, and he wished not to die alone. He hoped Light would not be so cruel to leave him struggling against death without anyone to hold his hand or stroke his face. Some small part of him wished it would be Light who would hold him when he released his final breath, even if he would be the one to cause it.

His thoughts were interrupted by a movement to his side, and he turned to look upon Light, who stood underneath a roof. He shouted something L couldn’t make out over the pouring sound of the rain.

Strange…L didn’t remember it starting to rain, and only now did he start to feel it as his wet clothes clung to his thin frame and his face and hair dripped with the freezing rain. How long how he stood out here? He couldn’t remember; he had lost track of time, too consumed by his thoughts.

Light looked at L, waiting for a response. His words had gotten lost through the rain, and L slowly brought his hand up to his ear, cupping it and leaning towards Light.

“What are you doing out here by yourself?” Light cried out, noticeably louder. His words cut through the rain.

_I only wanted to hear the bells better, Light, so as not to hear your piercing scream. By myself, you ask? Well, my only friend wants me dead, and while I love you, you are still me enemy, and some things must be done alone._

L pushed these thoughts and the accompanying sorrow aside and instead, smiled cheekily, tilting his ear once again towards Light who sighed in frustration. After a moment, Light conceded and stepped out into the soaking rain. He walked across the roof towards L, his hair plastering to his scalp and clothes clinging to his body. When he reached L, he moved to speak again.

“What are you doing, Ryuzaki?”

_Listening to my death._

L regarded Light for a moment, looking into the eyes that weren’t Light’s but Kira’s.

“Oh, I’m not doing anything in particular. It’s just I hear the bells,” L responded, blinking water away from his eyes. He let out an involuntary shudder. The rain was staring to soak into his skin, chilling him to the bone. Oddly, the discomfort seemed to belong to someone else, a distant body and distant sensation that had no impact on him.

“The bells?”

“Yes. The sound of the bells have been unusually loud today.”

He had been hearing them for a long time now, ever since Light placed his hand on the Death Note. He just hadn’t realized it, for Light’s scream had dominated his mind, and the unbridled emotions had warped it.

He had heard his death approaching for a while now; the incessant clamoring in his head only solidified the point.

“Hm? I don’t hear anything.”

_Of course you don’t; it’s not your time to die. Except, you will die one day. You forget that in your delusions of god like grandeur. You forget that you are mortal, that you are human and that you will die._

_Maybe Kira was simply a way for you delude yourself into thinking you cheated death? If you control death, then how can death control you?_

_Death controls us all, Light, and you are no exception._

“Really? You can’t hear them? It’s been ringing nonstop all day. I find it very distracting. I wonder if it’s a church, maybe a wedding. Or a funeral?” L spoke into the torrent. Light watched him, his expression neutral before putting on a mask of confusion.

“What are you getting at, Ryuzaki?”

_Oh you know Light, stop pretending._

“Come on cut it out. Let’s get back inside,” Light continued, appearing to look concerned for L. L watched him sadly.

“I’m sorry. Nothing I say makes sense anyway. If I were you I wouldn’t believe any of it.”

_Nothing I feel makes sense, nothing I do does either. You are Kira, and yet no one believes, and now everything I had done is wasted. It destroys me to admit you will win against me, but my successors are not burdened by such useless, agonizing emotions, and you will not defeat them._

_But right, now, it would be nice to have someone believe in me. The bells are so loud; surely, you will give me this one last favor._

“You know, you’re totally right.”

_No, Light…_

“Honestly, most of the things you say sound like complete nonsense.”

_Light…you don’t realize what you’re saying._

“There’d be no end to my troubles if I actually took you seriously all the time.”

_You’re saying every moment spent together, every word exchanged, every laugh and punch and smile means nothing. You’re saying our relationship was a joke and that you never believed in me. Surely I was more to you than a meaningless distraction; I had to be._

_My love for you is tearing me to shreds, breaking my bones in never-ending agony. I never understood how painful love could be, especially when the one I love is a cruel liar. Light, I accepted my death at your hands; I submitted to allowing a monster to roam free with the only hope that your brilliant mind will corrupt itself and my successors will stop your insane rampage. I’m giving up for this relentless love and it’s all you can do to give me a promise that my love was justified in some way, and that once, you may have loved me back._

_But it’s not Light whose speaking anymore, and Light was the only one who may have loved me. No, this is Kira with his filthy lies and blood stained hands._

_Maybe that’s why you can’t hear the bells: not because your death is distant, but because Light is already dead and all that’s left in that elegant body is a twisted demon._

“I probably know that better than anyone.”

_You know nothing, Kira._

“Yes, I would say that’s a fair assessment, but I could say the same about you,” L replied, eyes hardening. He was no longer talking to Light, but instead Kira who only hated and killed. Even still, with this knowledge set in his mind, some small sliver of hope curved through the rain that all of Light was not completely gone, that there a part of him hadn’t been corrupted and still potentially be saved.

A part that deep down may even still care of L.

“Hm? What’s that supposed to mean?” Light asked, tilting his head in faux confusion. Only his eyes betrayed the rapid calculations occurring in his mind as he puzzled through L’s statements, attempting to find ways to use them as weapons.

L took a deep breath. The next question would reveal what L was frightened to know and what Kira was scared to accept.

“Tell me Light,” L began, “from the moment that you were born, has there ever been a point where you actually told the truth?”

_Do you love me, Light-kun? And I do not mean the love represented by comical hearts and bouquets of roses; I am talking about the deeper type, the one of trust and honesty and selfishness. A love that fights against the solitude of genius._

_If you answer honestly, then I know a part of the true Light Yagami remains, for while neither of us will tell the truth, we are honest about our lies._

_I want you to be honest Light, for then I know there is a part deep down, buried beneath the arrogance that sees the error in your ways and that is begging the dominant part of you not to kill me, for I am your only shelter against loneliness, and just like every other human out there you are scared of being alone._

_Please, Light…don’t let all of you fall prey to the darkness._

Light remained silent for a moment, apparently debating his answer. Once he started, L could feel his heart freeze, and the bells stopped their insentient clamor as an even worse sound filled his mind.

“Where’s this coming from Ryuzaki? I do admit I stretch the truth here and there,”

_Oh Light, these is nothing left, is there? I know you are a liar, and you know I am one too, and a liar can only be honest to another liar. You do not need to hide yourself behind empty responses. I have no desire to see you as the perfect being all others view you as, and you so desperately attempt to retain. We are monsters, Light, and it should not be a shameful secret between us._

_Only Kira would wish to keep this secret, for once Kira is viewed as a monster, your shaky justifications crash down and you are left to deal with the drowning guilt of all the lives you took._

_“_ However, find me one person in this world who’s never had to tell a lie; it wouldn’t be easy.”

_We are not like the rest of the people in the world, Light._

“Human beings just aren’t made to be perfect like that. Everybody lies from time to time.”

_But Kira, you don’t even see yourself as human anymore; are you insinuating that you have achieved perfection? Or are you implying that me, a human on the brink of death, is not perfect? Because you are right. I am not perfect; I am childish, arrogant, irritating, competitive, lying, stubborn, prideful, hypocritical, and erroneous. If I was perfect, I would never had fallen in love with you…and because you view yourself as perfect and above such human errors, you never did._

_Unfortunately, Kira, you are human and have more imperfections then I could list, and they will be your downfall._

“Even so, I’ve always made a conscious effort not to tell a lie that could hurt others, that’s my answer.”

_Liar._

L gazed through the rain, his eyes expressing his seeping sorrow at the corruption of such a beautiful, vibrant mind. However, it was too late. L had no knowledge of the Death Note that could enable him to strip Light of Kira’s powers and return him to the boy he used to be. Rem offered no help, the task force refused to entertain any more thoughts that Light was Kira, even though he was, and Kira would experience no hesitation in killing L. Kira had won, and it tore L up inside, beating down on his shoulders and leaving a bitter taste in his mouth that no amount of sugar he consumed could hide it.

Worst of all, L’s first loss in his career didn’t only produce his death, but also cause L to lose the only one he loved.

He didn’t know which one hurt most, but it was too late for him to do anything. He could only now hope that in his remaining days, he could reveal enough information that could assist Mello, Matt, and Near in their own quest for justice.

“I had a feeling you would say something like that. Let’s go back inside; we’re both drenched.”

Light nodded his agreement, turning abruptly and walking through the torrential rain. L watched his receding figure, and almost against his will, felt a single tear roll out of his eyes and caress his cheek. He shook his head and stared up at the stormy sky. Water streaked against his face, washing the tear away and cleansing him. His eyes wandered, hoping to catch sight of something, but he didn’t know what, and he lowered his head in defeat, before turning to follow Light.

L blamed the rain.

He blamed it for what was to come for there was nothing to do but accept what he had lost. 


End file.
